Bereft
by Ezra Fitz
Summary: He'd always been accustomed to being the thief–until she came along and stole his heart.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Tangled or any of the related characters...if I did, Eugene would be _aaaaaalll _mine. (That damn _smolder_!)**  
**

* * *

**Bereft: **

He'd always been accustomed to being the thief–until she came along and stole his heart.

* * *

**I. The first time he had lain eyes on her, he was tied down in a position of complete and utter powerlessness.**

* * *

He attempts to stand up but is met with resistance. It is then that he realizes that he is bound to a chair. His gaze follows the material that is responsible for his imprisonment. The pale, thick strands precipitate to a figure perching itself on one of the higher windowsills of the tower. The breath leaves him as he comes to a startling conclusion. "Is this...hair?"

He squints as his eyes rest on the person.

"Struggling...struggling is pointless!" The voice is distinctly feminine and light. A thumping sound is heard as she jumps down from the shadows. "I know why you're here and I'm not... _afraid _of you!"

"What?"

The hem of a dress with a purple-pink hue starts appearing from the shadows. A head of blonde, silky hair emerges into the light and he is able to make out her features now. His mouth has gone dry. It finally sinks in that all this hair is _hers_.

"Who are you, and how did you find me?" she asks, looming over him with...a frying pan?

His only response is silence. The shock hasn't blown over yet.

She repeats her inquiry with more venom this time; challenging his speechlessness by waving her weapon–ahem, cooking utensil–closer to his face.

"I know not who you are, nor how I came to find you, but may I just say..._Hi._" He offers her a suggestive smile with a quirk of his eyebrows. She's pretty enough; he can't help but act a little flirty.

She blinks, once, twice, her confusion evident. He is quick to take note of her large emerald eyes.

He tries again in the huskiest voice he can muster. "How's your day going? The name's Flynn Rider."

* * *

**II. "Oh come on! What is it going to take for me to get my satchel back?"**

* * *

It is blackmail, really. He doesn't know what compelled him to accept her ridiculous offer, but he had. Desperation to restore the crown, yes. But another side of Flynn couldn't refuse the girl who is so adamant to see those floating lights.

The moment they step out of that tower, he regrets it.

"I can't believe I did this!"

She seems happy enough. Then–

"Mother would be so furious..."

He sighs.

"Best day ever, whoo!"

And moments later, she has burst into tears.

_'Jeez, this girl is bipolar.'_

He almost felt bad–almost.

* * *

**III. Accidental Touch  
**

* * *

He wishes she'd just give him back his satchel and be on her way, but he's learned by now that she isn't the type compromise. He's still a little offended that his smolder has left her unfazed. If she had fallen for his advances, things would have gone much more smoothly. He would have talked her out of her little 'deal', and turned the odds in his favor.

He decides that, for now, he'll go along with her plan. He cannot deny the mounting curiosity he has regarding her: her constant paranoia at being discovered, how she seems to constantly be at war with herself after attaining the small bit of freedom she's got. He realizes then that she is more than meets the eye.

Suddenly the bushes rustle and she is startled, cowering behind him.

"Thugs? Ruffians? Have they come for me?"

He makes no response. He is overly aware that her small, lithe body is clinging desperately to his back.

A wild hare jumps out of the bush and he feels Rapunzel's grip on his torso loosen slightly.

The unexpected touch has surprised him. "Relax. It can probably smell fear."

She untangles herself from him almost immediately. "Sorry," her voice is soft, almost apologetic. The light flush of her cheeks tells him that she's embarrassed.

Unbeknownst to her, his heart is beating erratically in his chest.

_'She smells of honey and lavender.'_

* * *

**IV. The (Not So) Snuggly Duckling  
**

* * *

The thought of the satchel renews his resolve. He swears he'll get rid of Blondie.

She's making him forget his priorities.

Flynn Rider will not grow soft - not now, not ever.

And so his second plan is set in motion - he coaxes her into accompanying him to a fabulous "diner."

"Hey Blondie, are you hungry? Because I know the _perfect _place for lunch."

...Except, she gets over her initial fear of the thugs and manages to charm them into singing about _dreams_.

It is when the guards appear that he realizes what predicament he has landed the both of them in.

It is gentlemanly instinct for him to want to protect her, he convinces himself. Flynn Rider would never ditch a lady.

But when they're sliding into the secret passage, he hears Rapunzel murmurs a small "Thank you," to Hook Hand.

He tries to ignore the sharp twinge of his chest when she gives the hooligan a kiss on the cheek.

* * *

**V. Impetuous Inclination  
**

* * *

His plan has completely backfired on him. He has to admit he's slightly impressed.

He tells her as much. "Didn't know you had that in you back there, Blondie."

She gives an ecstatic concordance. "I KNOW! I mean... I know_,_" she amends after realizing her impromptu outburst.

He allows himself to shoot an amused smirk her way. She gives a small, unsure smile in return, tilting her head awkwardly in a posture of feigned modesty.

The moment is lost when the sound of heavy footsteps and authoritative voices holler out, "RIDER!"

Rapunzel's quiet, panicked utterance reaches his ears. "Flynn...?"

The strange urgency to protect this queer girl settles itself in his mind once again.

He pushes her forward forcefully, "_Run_."

* * *

**VI. "Her hair_ glows_! ...Why does her hair glow?"**

* * *

They're stuck in the cave with no way out. Water is unceasingly pouring in.

She dives in and terror seizes him for a moment**. **What is she _doing_? _  
_

He doesn't stop himself from diving in after her.

"Hey, there's no point. It's pitch black down there," he mutters gently after he has pulled her back to surface.

Only when he's brushing the damp hair out of her eyes is he cognizant of their proximity.

He lets his hands drop from her face impulsively.

Something in him constricts when Rapunzel mumbles, "This is all my fault. I'm so...I'm so sorry, Flynn."

And she starts sobbing uncontrollably.

He doesn't know why, but he blurts out, "Eugene."

She turns towards him. He can still hear her muffled crying. "What?"

"My real name is Eugene Fitzherbert. Somebody might as well know," he finds himself saying.

Something in him calms when he sees her stop crying.

She gives a small half-laugh. "I have magic hair that glows when I sing."

"...What?"

* * *

**VII. "It doesn't just _glow._"**

* * *

When he had been tied down in that chair, the length of her hair had stupefied him.

It was nothing compared to what he had just witnessed.

"So... you're being strangely cryptic as you wrap your magic hair around my injured hand," he says casually, but his brain is going haywire.

Her viridian eyes fix themselves on him. She looks uncomfortable. "Just don't...freak out, okay?"

It is hard for him to contain his astonishment when she starts chanting an odd sort of incantation.

He doesn't know whether to marvel over her voice or the way her hair starts giving off an ethereal glow.

The luminosity spreads from her scalp up to the very last strands of hair, and suddenly his hand tingles with warmth.

The stupid reptile she always carries with her shoots him a smug look.

He unwraps the makeshift 'bandage' she has blanketed around his hand and starts hyperventilating.

The wound is healed, there is no scar; not even a _trace _of the cut that had been there just moments prior.

He blinks at his hand, moves it around to make sure he hasn't imaged the whole thing.

She eyes him expectantly.

A hysterical scream is building in his mouth when she hastily repeats, "Please don't freak out!"

"I'm-not-freaking-out-are-you-freaking-out-no-I'm-just-very-interested-in-your-hair-and-the-magical-qualities-that-it-possesses... How long has it been doing that exactly?"

"Umm...forever, I guess?" she smiles sheepishly, then sighs. "Mother says when I was a baby, people tried to cut it and take it for themselves...but once it's cut, it turns brown and loses its power."

She pushes her blonde locks away from her neck to show him a short, fine brown hair. He looks at her.

"A gift like that, it has to be protected. That's why mother never let me– that's why I never left and...–" Her eyes are downcast as her voice dies down.

"You never left that tower." His voice is sympathetic, soft.

Her eyes lift to rest on him then she fixes the forest floor again. He can't help but ask, "And you're still going back?"

Rapunzel's response is immediate. "_No!_ ...Yes..." She buries her head in her arms, "It's complicated."

He understands. _'She's not happy in that tower.' _It sounds more like a prison to him.

His stare on her is heavy until she finally peeks at him through her hands.

"So, Eugene Fitzherbert, huh?" Her tone has considerably brightened.

He is taken aback. "I'll spare you the sob story of poor orphan Eugene Fitzherbert... It's a little bit of a downer."

She is insistent and scoots closer to him. He tries to ignore her watchful, waiting eyes and the way her lips are puckering in expectancy. In the bright, flickering light of the fire he has lit, he can't control his mind's errant thought that she has such bright eyes and _very_ nice lips.

But she is the first person who has ever cared to know his story, and his walls crumble down.

"There was this book I used to read every night to all the younger kids. '_The Tales Of Flynnigan Rider.' _Swashbuckling rogue, richest man alive, not bad with the ladies either..." He gives her a knowing smile at the latter. "Not that he ever bragged about it, of course."

She hums. "Was he a thief too?"

"Ah...well, no," he is a bit surprised at the nature of her question. "Actually, he had enough money to do anything that he wanted to do. He could go anywhere that he wanted to go...And for a kid with nothing, I don't know. It just seemed like the better option.

"You can't tell anyone about this, okay? It could ruin my whole reputation."

"Ah, we wouldn't want that!" She smiles widely.

"Well, a fake reputation is all a man has..." he retorts lightly, returning her smile.

Rapunzel chuckles. Their eyes meet.

His brain registers the heat rising in his cheeks and he clears his throat, "Um, well. I should, um...I should get some more firewood."

Just as he's started to walk away, her voice reaches his ears again. "Hey. For the record, I like Eugene Fitzherbert much better than Flynn Rider."

"Well," he surveys her carefully, "then you'd be the first. But thank you."

His smile lasts through the rest of the night.

* * *

**Author's Note: I saw Tangled last week and I cannot _believe_ that I missed out on such a magical Disney movie! I fell in love with this pairing the moment they met. I loved developing Flynn's character and how his feelings for Rapunzel grew over time.**

**This is the first chapter. Feel free to leave praise or criticism. :)  
**


End file.
